


Insatiable

by stjarna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: All mistakes are my own, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Flannel!Fitz, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Mild Sexual Content, Sequel, Sexy Times, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 15:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16088855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Fitz is done mowing the lawn.Followup toFood for the body mind and soul[Strongly recommend reading that first.]





	Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilsciencequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/gifts), [Popsicle86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popsicle86/gifts).



> For @lilsciencequeen, who helped defend my honor today and I promised a fic in return and she mentioned wanting Fitz in flannel ;)
> 
> And for @popsicle86, who said she'd pay money for a next chapter to Food for the body mind and soul :) [Don't worry, you can have it for free ;) ]

Fitz let go of the handle and the motor of the mower sputtered a few more times before falling silent. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying how the music playing in his ears suddenly became more recognizable.

Fitz inhaled a deep breath, the smell of freshly cut grass mixing with the fumes of his mower. His eyes wandered to their bedroom window, and a smile flashed across his face as if by reflex.

He pushed the mower back into the garden shed, before heading back to the cottage. He opened the sliding door with one hand, wiping across his sweaty forehead with the other while kicking off his grassy sneakers.

He slid the door shut again, heading to the kitchen and grabbing a large glass from the cupboard, filling it with tap water, and downing it in a few big gulps.

Fitz placed the glass into the sink and was about to turn around and head upstairs when his eyes caught sight of the ultrasound pictures on the fridge.

He paused, carefully sliding his fingers underneath the prints, his thumb hovering above the image of their unborn daughter.

He smiled, stroking the black-and-white image of their baby a few more times, before letting go of the ultrasound and heading for the stairs.

Fitz stopped in his tracks when he reached their bedroom, swaying gently back and forth while one hand held on to the doorframe.

She was sitting on the bed, her legs extended, one gently resting on top of the other. She appeared to be focussed, reading on her tablet, her free hand placed on her pregnant stomach. One shoulder of her cardigan had slid down, exposing her naked shoulder and the thin spaghetti strap of her camisole. To anyone else, it may have looked like nothing more than a pregnant woman reading in bed, but after her earlier visit to the yard, Fitz knew all too well that nothing about the scene in front of him was casual.

He couldn’t help but smirk mischievously. “You’re not as subtle as you may think you are.”

Jemma pretended to look up in surprise, lifting her shoulders nonchalantly. “Maybe I’m not trying to be subtle.”

Fitz raised his eyebrows skeptically.

She rolled her eyes, putting her tablet down on the nightstand. “Fine. I was trying to be subtle, but—” She raised her index finger importantly. “—I also have absolutely no problem telling you outright to get your bum over here and rock my world.”

Fitz laughed out loud, dropping his head back in amusement.

“Fitz,” Jemma protested, though she couldn’t hide a chuckle herself.

“Alright.” Fitz stepped into the bedroom, reaching for the open front of his flannel shirt to take it off.

“Leave it on.”

Fitz froze at Jemma’s sudden request, furrowing his brow. “The flannel?” he asked in disbelief, his hand still holding on to the open front of his shirt, one shoulder half pulled down.

“Yes, please,” Jemma replied sweetly, her head slightly tilted to one side like that of a pleading puppy.

The wrinkles on Fitz’s forehead grew even deeper. “But it’s sweaty. And stinks.”

Jemma bit her lower lip, her eyes lustfully wandering up and down Fitz’s body as a sound between a sigh and a purr resonated from the back of her throat.

Fitz’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Jemma shrugged silently.

Fitz’s lips parted slightly in surprise, before pulling into a smile. “Well then.”

He walked towards the bed with fast steps, noticing how Jemma’s lips pulled wider in excited anticipation the closer he came.

He crawled onto the bed next to her, placing one hand on each side and pushing himself tall in front of her, his face so close to hers that her features almost became blurry.

He marveled at the love and excitement in her eyes, the way her exhale sounded a bit shaky.

“So,” Fitz hummed, rubbing his nose against hers, before looking back into her whiskey-gold irises. “Anything else you need before I rock your world?”

A grin spread across her face, as her hands reached up, her fingers combing through his curls, sticky with sweat. “Your undivided attention will do nicely.”

Fitz scoffed in amusement, wiggling his eyebrows. “That I can do,” he replied, his voice raspy with desire, before he lowered his lips to the soft skin below her ears, while his fingers pushed away the spaghetti strap of her camisole as he kissed his way down her neck and towards her shoulder, enjoying Jemma’s soft moan.

* * *

Fitz waited until the ecstasy of his orgasm slowly ebbed away, before opening his eyes, a smile reflexively spreading across his face at the sight of his half-naked wife, slightly bent forward, her hands pressed against Fitz’s chest to steady herself. Her curls hid most of her face, as she tried to catch her breath.

Fitz rested his hands on her naked thighs that straddled his hips. “I know you asked me to rock  _ your  _ world,” he said breathlessly, “but I think you did most of the rocking here.”

Jemma laughed out loud, and Fitz could feel her muscles tightening around him where he was still deeply buried inside of her, the sensation causing his breath to hitch.

She pushed her hair out of her face, sitting up straighter, and gazing back at him rather seductively. “Is that a complaint?”

Fitz chuckled. “Most certainly not.”

“Good,” Jemma replied, contentedly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Fitz’s lips, before sitting back up, her hands gliding across her swollen stomach. “Because this is currently one of the most comfortable positions for me.”

“Happy to comply.” Fitz grinned at her, before gently patting her thighs. “So. May I now take off this sweaty, stinky, dirty flannel shirt and take a shower?”

Jemma pursed her lips. “Only if I may join you,” she hummed suggestively.

Fitz raised his eyebrows. “You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re enjoying every second of it,” Jemma countered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Fitz shifted, tightening his stomach muscles and using his hands to push himself up to sitting, causing Jemma to gasp in surprise at the sudden change of position. He combed his fingers through her hair, cradling her head in his palms.

“That I do,” he replied hoarsely, before sealing her lips with a kiss.


End file.
